The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-12-23

dren, bidding them come to the library in
half an hour and help him open his pack.
Bessie well knew what that meant Papa
had brought her lots of nice things, as she
explained to Nellie, assuring her that she
should have half of them. ''Oh Bessie"
was all the poor child could reply.
To her. the half-hour spent in Bessie's
nursery seemed little more than moment
as she feasted her eyes on all the wonders
there And Bessie herself soon forgot
every thing else in the pleasure of exhibit
| ing them. The stroke of the clock recalled
her, however, and Selling Nellies hand
| they were off to the library like a whirl-
| wind
Papa and Iawaited them there and on the
table before us was the mysterious pack, as
he had called his large valise. Such time
as we had searching from among it's con-
| tents the various bundles marked with ou1
| names
! Bessie clapped her hands dehghtedly as
one after another of her beautiful toys was
disclosed, and astonished her papa and me
| beyond measure by her iberality toward
| her little guest, who stood looking ON and
receiving what was given her without a
word seeming half-dazed with wonder and
happiness.
When the gifts had been distributed she
| stole quietly to a retired window. Bessie
| soon followed and found her absorbed in
the contemplation of miniature likeness,
which she held in one hand while with the
| other she grasped the corners of her treas
ure-laden apron.
| II am looking at mamma" she said, in
| answer to Bessie's inquiry "See how she
| is smiling because I am so happy. I was
| almost sure she would know"
"And she really does" said Bessie, with
sweet credulity @How pretty she is Let's
| show her to papa and mamma" and, taking
| the picture from the unresisting hand, she
ran to us, holding it out and exclaiming:
"Look, this is Nellie's pretty mamma"
"Can it be possible" gasped my husband
growing deathly pale. Margaret it is the
| face of my poor, misg uided sister. And this
is her orphan, he continued, as he rose and
took the frightened child in his arms
Don't be afraid, little one. You shall
never want a fathers love while I live
| Come, wife, come, Bessie, add your welcome
| TO mine, for henceforth this poor little wait
must have place in our home and hearts
We needed no second bidding, and hap
pier family than ours could not have been
found that day in all Christendom.
The real cause of my husbands agitation
on hearing the child's name was now made
clear to me. The name was his sisters, but
! not finding in the face the resemblance he
sought, he had decided that Nelly Martin
was too common a name to be significant.
He had never spoken to me of his sister
because, as he said, he could hardly bear to
think, much less talk, of her. She had been
his boyhood's idol but had married I'M
fortunately. In her shame and disappoint-
ment she had exiled herself from home and
friends eluding all search even after the
death of her unworthy husband, which had
occurred before Nellie could remember
Fido, reinstated in his old place, now di-
vides his attention between his old and his
new mistress, and Nellie, in the genial at
mosphere of our happy home, has become
almost as plump and rosy as Bessie. She
fondly believes that Santa Claus was instru-
| mental in bringing her to US, and wonders
what he can do for her this Christmas to in
any way compare with that
MRS BARBARA WHITSoN.